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Calamus Poems: Leaves of Grass


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21.

MUSIC always round me, unceasing, unbeginning—yet long untaught I not hear,
But now the chorus I hear, and am elated,
A tenor, strong, ascending, with power and health, with glad notes of day-break I hear,
A soprano, at intervals, sailing buoyantly over the tops of immense waves,
A transparent base, shuddering lusciously under and through the universe,
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The triumphant tutti—the funeral wailings, with sweet flutes and violins—All these I fill myself with
I hear not the volumes of sound merely—I am moved by the exquisite meanings, I listen to the different voices winding in and out, striving, contending with fiery vehemence to excel each other in emotion,
I do not think the performers know themselves—but now I think I begin to know them.
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